Kainaldia High
by Turtle Kid the Woolgatherer
Summary: AU: A year of highschool through the eyes of our favorite suicidal psychopath. A hint why this highschool sucks? Nadil is the principal.
1. Chapter 1

I growl in frustration, combing the black hair die into my white streak, an annoying thing I have to do every friggin morning just because Lykouleon wants me to fit in. Well, Raseleane wants me to fit in, too, but she can be easily ignored.

It isn't my fault I'm a suicidal, psychotic maniac. In fact, if I had any say at all, I'd say it was my father's.

Of course, people believe I can't remember my father, and I prefer it that way. From what I've heard, they know that he'd been doing research on DNA, trying to make the perfect human or something. If they knew I actually know everything, that I have a perfect memory (Photographic, perfect, whatever -- it's all the same.) from the day I was given a brain, still in the test-tube, the government might come back to check up on me.

They haven't done that in years, but you never know.

I laugh to myself; that same, bitter laugh I use for everything, as though the world is laughing at me and I know it. I'd just been so cute and . . . believable when I was younger.

I can still catch people off guard and make myself cute occasionally, but I no longer do it all the time.

I snort to myself, trying to get the fumes out of my nose as I exit my private bathroom.

I know my father isn't really dead. I've seen him at the park, white hair glaring as his helper carried his two physically/mentally-enhanced birds. Kharl would always stop, turning to me, and then smile, watching his creation stop to study him.

The last time that happened I'd killed one of his birds.

Kharl left me alone after that, and I couldn't help but give myself a pat on the back at the crushed face of my father.

Fire and Light are sitting on my bed, mewling for food. My bitter smile softens into a real one as I change the cat's water and food, checking the kittens.

Earth is sleeping, Wind cocks his head to the side and blinks, and Water is trying to pounce on Earth's tail(. . . and he's usually so uptight . . .).

I used to have a Dark, too, just to even things out, but he'd somehow wandered outside and never returned.

I pick up my backpack, running down the stairs and passing the boarders in a blur.

Lykouleon doesn't actually need to make extra money, but he has a kind heart and lets those who want to use his house as a home . . . as long as they pay a small fee.

A _very_ small fee.

I skid to a stop outside the kitchen. I always run past the boarders. A previous one had tried to befriend me and ended up in the hospital.

I hadn't meant to do that, but the man questioned me about my father.

I know their names, at least. Rune, Thatz, Gil, and Bierrez. The one with long hair . . . Rune, I think, (I thought he was gay before learning about his girlfriend in a coma back home) had once tried to talk to me. He never tried it afterward as all I would do was throw books at him every time he opened his mouth.

I learned an important lesson that day. Never get on the bad side of Rune.

I open a drawer, scattering the silverware every-which-way in an attempt to find a spoon.

We have millions of dollars, and don't have a thingy to separate silverware.

Sad.

The door opens behind me and I tense, tightening my grip on a butter knife.

"Hey, could you get us some bowls?"

Oh. Thatz.

I fix a disarming smile on my face, reaching into a cupboard and taking out six bowls, two spoons in hand.

I turn around, still with that same smile. I'm sure Rune's mouth is dislocated as it hit the floor. I pass out the bowls, handing one to Kaistern the others haven't noticed is behind them.

He smiles at me too, his glasses hanging off his shirt. "Thanks, Rath," he mutters, walking with me to the dining room. Alfeegi and Ruwalk are already there, talking with Tetheus about Lykouleon's obvious spiral into self hatred.

I feel a sick sense of pride before squashing it down. Even I can disgust myself sometimes.

"I think it all has to do with not being able to give Raseleane a child," says Alfeegi, flicking back his long hair.

Tetheus glowers. "It has more to do with Nadil." Such a grouch!

The boarders are behind us, and they've never heard me talk before. Nobody really has, but I don't think they know that. They'll probably want me to join in on their conversation.

I pour in Coco-Puffs, handing it off to Bierrez without a second's thought. He seems surprised that I know he likes them (since I've never had breakfast with them before), but takes them all the same.

Fire and Light are rubbing against my leg. I pick them up and put them on the table, rubbing their ears around their heads. They purr gratefully, sniffing around my bowl for the milk. I push it slightly away from myself and they lap at it gratefully.

I lean back in my chair, waiting for the explosion.

Waiting. . . .

Waiting. . . .

"ACHOO! RATH!"

Ah, there we go.

I open my eyes, smiling that same disarming smile.

"WHAT ARE CATS DOING ON THE -ACHOO!- TABLE!" Alfeegi yells, slamming his hands on the table.

Ruwalk tries to calm him down. "N-Now Alfeegi, it's not all that bad-"

"IT'S A CAT! I'M ALLERGIC!" Alfeegi scuttles away from the table, sneezing all the way.

I smile.

Ruwalk sighs, looking at me. "Rath, please put the cats on the ground."

I pretend not to hear him, choosing instead to walk away, picking up my backpack on the way out. The cats follow anyway, and I hear Ruwalk and Kaistern sigh in relief.

They follow all the way outside. I veer off the path, going to Crewgers little home off to the side.

The doghouse is big enough for him, and he's rather huge. I can walk through the door barely bending down. I scratch Crewger's head and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. He tries to roll over, but the chain is wrapped around his legs and he falls instead.

I snicker to myself, helping him up.

He glares.

"Sorry, Crewger," I say in a low voice. He seems to accept this and bends over to stretch. I turn back to the cats. "Keep him company while I'm gone."

I swear they roll their eyes.

I walk across the garden again, coming to a stop in front of a white van, big for transportation of ten people.

The boarders came in the middle of summer, and today is the first day of school. Last year only Thatz was here, and he's a pretty good guy. A little lazy, but he never _really_ bothers me, so he's okay.

Kaistern wanders outside, clicking that little clicker-button-thingy that unlocks the doors to the limousine-like van. I slide into the passenger seat, letting the boarders arrange themselves behind me. Kaistern buckles up, turning halfway around to smile at them. "Ready to go?" They give noises of consent.

He turns back around, looking at me out of the corner of his eye as he slowly backs up, trying to gouge whether I'm ready for today or not. I can't blame him. Last year I went crazy in the cafeteria on the first day.

Once again, not really my fault.

I feel almost sorry for him. He's always chosen to represent me in school. I suppose you could call him my mini-lawyer. He must hate me by now, but maybe he doesn't. I don't know. I know I hate him, but I'm not known for being able to read other people. I can't even tell what _I'm_ thinking sometimes.

. . . But I don't think _he_ knows what I'm thinking, either, because I'm smiling like no tomorrow.

* * *

Disclaimer: Don't own Dragon Knights.

AN: Updates _will be_ _slow_ because this was completely random.

Sorry for mistakes and weirdness, but hey, this is _Rath_ we're talking about.

I'm not really sure what Rath's hair color is, because it always changes depending on who you ask in my experience.


	2. Chapter 2

The school looks old, even though it's only been around for _maybe_ five years, and even that's stretching it a bit.

Destructive kids do that.

I jump out, practically running into the school in an attempt to avoid as many people as possible.

Nobody even glances my way as I jump over some bushes, heading around to the back of this poor, sad building. I lean against the building, pulling out a map of the school to check all the lines and numbers I'd scribbled to keep track of where I go now.

. . . Oh. Garfakcy's class first. I mean, **Mr. _Ash_**.

Stupid name to pick, if you ask me. If anybody else had been in on that project, they would surely be able to process the implications.

No idea what the chicks dig about that little midget, but it gets them to pay attention. He has a higher percentage of people graduating than the other science teachers. It keeps him in the school, but he'd probably be able to stay even if only one student a year passed his class, considering who _his_ teacher is and considering who his teacher is to the _principal_.

It's a conspiracy, and, I swear to you this, that is _not_ just my paranoid imaginings.

I sigh.

I look up, watching the clouds roll past. It's nice sometimes to just sit back, relax, and watch the perspiration in the sky. . . .

Heh. That's one big horse.

DR-DR-DR-DR-DR-DR-DRING

I jump up, whacking my head on the windowsill that just _happens_ to be above me.

See what I mean about a conspiracy?

* * *

Garfakcy glances around the room. His eyes meet mine before continuing his search, but he's already found what he was looking for. Me.

. . . Well, okay, he might actually be looking at _every_ face in the class, but I don't believe it.

Thatz, a few chairs behind me, is snoring softly, eyes hidden by his green hair.

Garfakcy throws an eraser at him.

"Huh? Wha?"

Bierrez sits in the front row, twirling his pencil and acting bored. He sticks the pencil on his nose and tilts his head up.

. . . Yep, bored.

Gil is sitting on my left side, not out of wanting to talk to me, but because he wants to ask me something, which, I suppose could count as talking, but it's not like I'm going to _really_ answer. Maybe edge around the subject.

"That cat at the breakfast table, with the reddish hair, what's his name?"

His . . . name?

Well, I suppose I couldn't call that cute little cat 'Fire' all the time. Bad name for a cat, unless I was to burn him for a ritual or something. Hm.

. . . Wait, did I just call a cat _cute_?

Ew. . . .

Thatz steps up behind Gil (who decides, eventually, that he will not get an answer), looking over his shoulder at a paper Gil is doodling on. ". . . Is that man supposed to have a hand coming out of his mouth?"

Gil scowls, flipping his pencil over and erasing furiously.

Then the final bell rings and everyone is in class.

I glance around.

Not that many people, really. A couple girls, a couple guys, Garfakcy, who's a little of both. . . .

Yes, Kharl has a weird sense if humor.

I can feel it all throughout the lesson. Garfakcy watches my every move, judging the class based on my acts.

I know this because he doesn't throw an eraser at Thatz again.

The next class is English, which I like marginally better. Fedelta is sort-of odd, but just because he likes fire way to much and nearly burned down a classroom last year doesn't mean Garfakcy has anything on him.

Besides, he's more like me. A closet psycho.

. . . Well, okay, anyone with eyes can tell he's a psycho, but still.

Somehow I made it into honors without trying. Rune's in this class, too. (He was supposed to be the year above, but spent last year at his other school mostly in a coma with his girlfriend.)

Shyrendora teaches us Math, and that's right before lunch.

* * *

Well, I don't go crazy in the cafeteria.

Kaistern will be so proud.

I don't know. P.E. is cool, Spanish is boring, and in computers I (somehow) nearly blow up a computer and freak out the teacher at the same time.

Multitasking is fun.

So, anyways, Bierrez and Gil have been staring at Thatz like he's an alien since lunch, and I'm just sort of . . . standing there, watching Kaistern pull up, thinking how wonderful it would be if these boys were the only ones that would pay to live at my house, but no. Last year, after the first day, we got a lot of kids coming to the frecking _mansion_ after school. I don't know why they didn't make an appointment or something, but they didn't. Just showed up, expecting to get a room.

They got a room, of course (Lykouleon is sorely open minded), but it annoyed the heck out of Alfeegi, who had to do all the paper work, including the bills, which were _horrendous_, mind you. What else could you expect from a house compiled of mostly teenagers?

Another thing I don't understand is why, exactly, they came _after_ the first day of school. Where did they spend the night before? Are these people stupid? I've never heard of anything like it before. Maybe the air does stuff to people. That would explain why we have so many weird people in this city. . . .

Actually, I'm sure the air does stuff to people. Last year something was released into it, but nobody knows quite what it is or who did it. All anybody knows is that it's nontoxic, but will sometimes make people hallucinate.

Shortly after this announcement a girl ran out of school saying a dragon was going to eat her.

Stop staring at me like that. I had nothing to do with it! . . . Well, maybe a little. . . .


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the Willy Wonka script, but I am using a part of it, sorta, because it is funny and witty. Tim Burton is a genius.

* * *

Before the van can stop I jump out, sprinting all the way around to the side (Which is pretty damn far) and stepping on some of Raseleane's flowers to get to Crewger's house, totally ignoring whatever Kaistern says that he thinks might get me back.

Crewger's a fun dog to have around. He's always ready to play with me or the cats, and has the mentality of an eight-year-old.

No, really. I was watching from my tube as Garfakcy brought an orphan in, gender unknown, and helped Kharl take out its brain and put it inside a dog. Disgusting _and_ fascinating.

As I turn the corner I have enough in me to glance to the side without slowing down. And, well, Raseleane is going to kill me. . . .

I slow down as I near Crewger's house. Then stop. I'm a very hyper person by nature, and I've just been inside of a classroom all day with only forty minutes for lunch. That isn't nearly enough to get me down. And now, one of the only—um—people I can relate to is sleeping, while another is lounging on his thick, white hair. (No, not fur. Hair. It doesn't shed, and Crewger needs it cut soon.)

I glare at the unsuspecting cat and dog. The cat (whom I have now dubbed Fire for my lack of imagination) seems to be snoring, but I don't feel like testing that theory right now. I'm thinking of kicking Fire, but then Crewger might get mad at being woken up and bite me, and then I couldn't fight back. I'm mean, but I'm not about to kick an eight-year-old.

Yes, life sucks. What'cha gonna do? _Bad girl. Bad girl._

Damn song.

I turn to look at the forest conveniently placed next to the house (since Lykouleon is very rich, and "teenagers need space", he got a house pretty far from the city). This, my children, is called a 'plot device', and is used by authors to fuck up a perfectly good story. It is also used by the three Fates in mythology who are, right now, laughing their asses off at their devious plans to get me to go into that forest so that bad things can happen. I know this. It's in all the books I read.

So, naturally, I do not go into the forest. Pity, that. It's a nice forest, one I used to go into all the time. But not anymore. It's a bad, bad, evil place.

Really.

I turn around, intent on heading inside the house. I actually would stay to kick Fire, damn the consequences, but there is a bird sitting on that tree.

And it is always watching me.

(Okay. Rhyming, right. Getting back on track.)

It's too big to be normal, looking like a phoenix if it weren't for the dark colors. In fact, it isn't natural. Which should be obvious, but I can safely say that, if you don't spell things out, people get the wrong information. Or read things wrong.

Basically, it's Kharl's bird. Right bird.

Now that I think about it, I probably got my imagination from him. He sucks at names too.

* * *

I don't know what Lykouleon's been smoking. He doesn't even ask me about it and I'm sharing a room. Just like that. No warning, but he didn't want to impose upon the guests, no. Just the kid who'll be living with him for some more odd years and knows how to _really_ pick at wound.

The boy's name is Nohiro, and he's just a little bit flighty. I also believe, quite firmly, that he is gay. No, this is not something I can be wrong about like I was with Rune. He hasn't even glanced at any of the maids in this mansion and he keeps hitting on all the guys. Mostly Rune, but he did scare Bierrez a little when he told him he had a nice ass.

It made me happy, that look of shock on his face. I almost laughed.

I glare at him and make sure he knows that I'm taking a shower and that means he'd better not come in before going in the bathroom, and he is good and doesn't barge in while I'm taking a shower. None of my doors have locks on them for reasons so obvious that nobody can tell they're there. But they are, and they are almost never addressed.

My pajamas drag across the floor as fall into bed. Repressing my own energy is exhausting, but something I'll have to get used to if I want to survive the rest of school.

I have stuff my . . . "parents" need to sign, but I don't feel like it right now. That's not good. Whatever.

_Sleep. . . ._

* * *

I wake up to Rune's screams and someone else's yells, before a gigantic crash echoes through the house. I feel the walls of my room shake.

Blinking, I stared across the room. Fire must have gotten help from Crewger or Nohiro, because he's on my bed and I clearly remember going to sleep with the window closed and no red cat in sight. Nohiro isn't in his bed, so, from the screams of pain from down the hall. . . .

I move out of the bed carefully, making sure not to disturb the cats in their sleep. Earth has his feet up in the air and is drooling, but everyone else looks normal.

I have a lock on my part of the cabinet in the bathroom, but not to my doors. It was installed last evening by Tetheus, and the red key dangles around my neck on a piece of string. I unlock the lock, making sure the door is closed and Nohiro's not about to barge in. I slip out the case, opening it and placing a tinted contacts lens on my finger.

The feeling is weird. After all summer, I have to get used to it again. I actually poked myself yesterday, but my body is falling back into the rhythm. I blink a few times after both are in and check myself in the mirror. Where there were once red eyes there is now black. It was a little bad last night, when I'd come back out of the bathroom. I almost let Nohiro see my eyes.

The die is only temporary, and the streak is a dark gray. I take out the black bottle again, grimacing in disgust.

The second day of school, with even more people in the house. Joy.


	4. Chapter 4

People have never heard me talk. But they have heard me speak words aloud. Words are just sounds used by people to try to understand one another better, and they aren't doing a very good job. (This is where sarcasm comes in. It's very useful to display all kinds of things, but many people use it badly and abuse their privilege.) Sometimes I'd much rather be a wolf. Talking wolf language is easy. Growl here, nip a hairy butt there, piss on a tree and voila! You're in business. (Don't tell Crewger I said that. He'll get mad.)

Sadly, I'm not a wolf. Heck, I'm not even human, or at least not fully. I think Kharl used some sort of reptile or amphibian to tie some of my DNA strands together, since not all of them seemed to want to fit. (Keep in mind that dogs and humans have never successfully mated to create children, so somebody-who-shall-remain-nameless-and-is-already-mentioned-in-this-paragraph is obviously not as smart as he thinks he is.)

Which is probably why I don't get along well with reptiles. No, really. That stupid snake is glaring at me.

Shyrendora, though she's teaching us math, has a stupid snake in her room like my biology teacher had a stupid salamander last year. And it just sits there. And stares at me. All class period. Which is annoying, since I'm not really good at math (despite my test scores; I swear it was a fluke) and should be paying attention, but I won't tell if you won't.

"Mr. Illuser."

Shit.

I give my best 'who-me?' look, but from the glare I'm receiving it's not very effective.

"Would you care to explain what the answer is?"

I glance at the board, and my eyes widen. Sheesh, is this lady writing in Greek? It's the second frickin' day of school! Shouldn't we do review or something?

Oh, wait. It does look sort of familiar. . . .

Whoops.

". . . No."

Shyrendora raises her left eyebrow. "No?"

Stop sounding repetitive and get on with it.

"No." I'm sounding really quiet, and I can feel a blush rushing to my face. I have no idea _why_, though, since I'm not embarrassed. Nope, not at all. . . . Shut up.

She makes an odd 'tsking' noise in the back of her throat (which I didn't think was possible before now) before proceeding to ask another poor sap what the answer is. This young lad, noticeable because of his long, and rather girlish, blond hair answers the question correctly and, might I add, in fluent Greek.

But I don't care anymore, because that snake has started a staring contest with me, and dammit if I'm not going to win!!!

* * *

I lost.

Horribly.

Stupid boa.

Lunch is something so nasty I'm afraid it's not fit for human consumption. But Thatz, a table away, is proving me _very_ wrong. I can't believe he hasn't died yet. From the looks of disgust this act is garnering him I don't think anyone else can believe it, either.

I adopt a blank face, just because I can (and if I frown too much the staff thinks something is _wrong_ with me and sends me to the school counsellor, and he's a little too . . . rape-little-boys looking for me to want to be near him), and poke . . . _it_ a few times.

It actually goes, "Skreek!" in an odd, soft, high pitched buzzing noise and moves a few centimetres away.

Um, 'kay. . . . Well, I'm not eating _that_.

"Mind if I sit here?" I blink. I blink again. Then jump, startled, in a delayed reaction.

"What?" I turn to the person who asked.

Oh. . . .

I should be surprised, I really should, but for some reason, the strength to be anything but mildly confused escapes me for the moment.

Nohiro smiles shyly. "Well, I asked to sit over there," –insert pointing here-, "but I don't think Rune likes me very much, and you looked a bit lonely. . . ."

I peer under his arm to see Rune . . . well, you know how the saying goes. Something like, 'If looks could kill.' Oh, and he's stabbing his lunch quite hard. I can practically hear the screams all the way over here.

I give the boy in front of me a smile. "Sure," I say, and he gives me a grateful look before moving to sit next to me.

There's an awkward silence (or, at least, I think it's awkward; I'm not very good with silences) before Nohiro coughs and turns to me. "So, you're Lykouleon's son?"

No. "Yes." I add a nod to that, still smiling slightly. (The problem with this is it still doesn't use up 0.001 percent of the energy inside me. Damn.)

You see, not many people know about Kharl or his . . . experiments. It was all very hush-hush, you understand. And, even though we don't look alike (or me and Raseleane, for that matter), many people don't catch on to the fact that we aren't related.

He makes a high pitched 'hn' sound. "Good, good. . . ." He pokes at his food, and pretty much comes to the same conclusion I did.

There is more awkward silence that lasts quite a while, and just when I think he's going to say something again. . . .

DR-DR-DR-DR-DR-DR-DRING

The bell rings.

I'm rather thankful, since sitting on my butt for fifty minutes doesn't really do it for me.

* * *

If it were up to me, I wouldn't talk at all. In fact, there was this period in my life . . . I think I was seven, or ten, or something like that . . . when I stopped talking altogether. Then there was this whole fiasco where I was sent to shrink after shrink after shrink, all of them trying to figure out why I wouldn't talk.

In the end it got too annoying and I just gave up. I'm like that sometimes. Like when I don't want to waste my life as a prisoner in my own house or any other building, thank you very much.


	5. Chapter 5

Kaistern turns left into the driveway, and I can see the stupid sign again. Its colors consist of bright yellow and electric blue, and at night some lights are turned on so that you can see it in all its ugliness for a full twenty-four hours, if you so wish. (If you do, I suggest counseling.)

It has the words _Dusis Mansion_ printed on it.

I know. Original, isn't it? At least Lykouleon's ancestor didn't name it after his wife like he'd planned, because how sappy would that be? I think I'd have to vomit every time I so much as thought of it. I think he named it after his horse, or something. Some type of animal.

I don't jump out this time, because Kaistern told me when I'd entered that he'd put the child safety locks on, which completely sucks, mind you. I have to wait for him to come around and open the door for the others before he comes to mine.

"Now, please don't run around and cause trouble. Lykouleon has a meeting today," he says as he blocks my exit. I want to get to Crewger. Is that too much to ask?

I nod and smile at him, and I don't know if he's thinking 'Oh, good' or 'dear God, help us all.' I'm not planning to interrupt him, since I did that last week. Nevertheless, he steps aside to let me out and close the door. When he turns back around, I'm already around the corner and hoping for some friendly canine companionship.

I stop as I near Crewger's house, which is really just an elaborate dog house with a little door that a dog can close by pulling on the piece of rope. I don't stop because of the dog, but there are people there. Slightly familiar people that I've seen around school, plus Gil and Bierrez.

I don't know. I guess I feel betrayed. I mean, this happens every year almost, but I still always want to go up and yell, "Mine!" And then I want for them all to be struck by lightning so that I can go back to having _my_ dog all to myself. Maybe a bit more traumatized than before, but still my dog.

I almost let a scowl come onto my face, but stop it before it can fully come. It would be really bad if someone saw that. I settle for a blank look and turn to leave.

The girl in front of me blinks. I respond in much the same way.

"Um. . . ." Maybe stopping so near the corner wasn't such a great idea. That whole 20/20 thing. "Hi! My name's Kitchel!" All of a sudden she's all smiles and she forcefully grabs my hand to shake it. I think I hear something crack. "Are you another tenant?"

I like the word 'boarder' better, myself. "Uh, no."

Kitchel frowns. "Really?" No, I was just saying it for the sake of hearing my own voice. She taps her chin with her finger. "Oh! So, you must be, like, a son of one of the workers here?"

Well, sort of. "Yeah."

She seems pleased with herself. "Well, that's—Hey! What's your name?"

"Rath!" This girl is fun! She's making me hyper!

Her eyebrows furrow. "Like the seven sins?"

"Nah. Spelled differently."

"Sounds good!" She giggles. Odd girl. "Hey! Wanna go swimming? It's _way_ too hot out here, and I'm sure there's a pool _somewhere_ around here that you could show me to!"

I almost hesitate. "Sure!" Maybe I should have said no. I _hate_ hindsight. If I was a mutant (as in, X-Men) my passionate abhorrence would light the whole world on fire.

"Great!" She cheers and twirls around. I can practically see her turn on the breaks when she suddenly turns back to me, a totally unabashed look on her face. "Oh. Could you help me find my room?" Her smile widens, and turns just a little pleading.

Yes. I should have said no.

* * *

Kitchel stares around the pool. "Wow! I mean, I knew that dude was rich, but jeez! No holding back on the expenses, aye?" Her towel and rubber ducky _("But—but—without my ducky I feel **so lonely**!")_ are unceremoniously dumped on the edge of the pool before she jumps in. Her stuff is immediately soaked.

I suppose that means she doesn't expect an answer. I guess I should feel grateful, but I'm finding it hard. This girl has absolutely no sense of direction, and I wish she'd given me that time to at least yell at her, if not answer her question.

I sigh and sit on the side of the pool, brooding. It's not _sulking_, it's _brooding_. I'm not _that_ much of a sissy.

"Hey, Rath! Stop sulking and get in the water!" Kitchel splashes me.

Bitch. At least I'm not worried about getting my hair wet and don't have to wear a stupid swim cap. "Okay, okay." I grin placatingly. Maybe it turns a bit predatory.

She seems to notice. "Um, heheh, hey." I stand up. "You don't have to come in on my—" She gets a mouthful of water for her trouble. "AAARGH!" She coughs and splutters. "Rath!"

Just to be nice, I snatch off her swim cap and dunk her. I know that they're a real bother and very constricting, so once she comes up I'm sure she'll thank me.

I swim away, giggling. Then I make the mistake of glancing behind me. Those sayings about women being, best and worst, like heaven and hell? Completely true.

* * *

Alfeegi takes a double take as me and Kitchel . . . um, Kitchel and I, walk past in soaking wet t-shirts, our bathing suits clearly underneath. "What happened to you two?" He seems afraid of the answer, so why did he ask?

Kitchel waves her hands nervously. "Um, um, nothing! Nothing at all!" Her smile is so nervous.

"Really." It's not a question, and we all know it. His eyes are looking us both up and down, taking in the slowly forming bruises (from the chairs and tables we ran into), my arms (completely _ruined_, thanks to her nails), and her drowned puppy dog look (she will _never_ win a water battle against me). He opens his mouth. "_Rath_!"

I blink. What have I done? But nevertheless, I adopt a stupid look, dreamy eyes and smile and all. "Yes?"

He pauses. I think he knows this doesn't bode well for him. "What were you thinking, hurting a girl like that?" At least he's just sorta mad, and not screaming yet. That's annoying. And what does he mean, hurting a girl like that? Does he even see how she mauled me? "And a lodger, at that?"

And here it comes out. The real reason he's mad. I mean, I know that it's hard for him to find the money to placate the bill-people every month. I suppose that's because he doesn't know about Lykouleon having, like, investments in all the good stocks. Or maybe he does, and just doesn't want to rely on it.

Either way, he's still a bit mad. "Calm down," I suggest. "With all this stress, you'll die by forty, and that's not too long off."

His face turns red. "I'M TWENTY-SEVEN!" He's mad.

I blink and tilt my head. "Really? You look at least ten years older."

In my defense, I'm not always in charge of what I say and/or do. A lot of stuff just pops out, like that. I blame the mad scientist who created me.

His face is now less red and more purple. I see Kitchel edging around a corner before I hear rapid footsteps leaving. Smart girl. By the looks of it, I'm going to die. Painfully.

I hope Crewger feels bad about making friends with the others. And I hope Fire gets indigestion tonight for bringing that bird into my room during school today.

* * *

AN: Maybe no main pairing, maybe straight. I'm bad with pairings, so no promises.


	6. Chapter 6

How does that ditty go? _It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring. . . ._

Yeah. Today's one of those days.

The rain plummets to the ground in great dollops. There's a sort of glow around the teenagers (a.k.a. poorly disguised three-year-olds) who're running around and tackling each other into the mud.

No, I am not joining them. Why? I'm reading "The Tragedy Of Julius Caesar". I have read every single book in the vast library at the mansion and school that aren't boring, and started on the rather broad action section at the public library, too. But I found this particular play on one of my escapades, and I knew I'd need it for a report due in a few months, so I figured _Why not?_

Don't get me wrong. I am not a Shakespeare nut, because school honestly kills him (like the churches kill religion, or the pound kills stray animals), but he's an easy guy to understand. Why do people have so much trouble with the way he writes? (Just don't try to get a feminist to read "The Taming Of The Shrew". They will kill you, and then ask your corpse why it's classed as a fucking comedy.)

I've read up to the part where Caesar goes, "_Et tu, Bruti_?" and then dies, when a girl with slightly protuberant eyes practically falls in, toweling her long hair dry. Her boots squeak and leave wet prints on the tile. Even though it's hot inside the mansion on a day like this, with the heaters working extra hard, she's wearing a hooded sweatshirt.

She stops to stare. Her towel falls to her shoulders, and I can't help but notice that her bangs are a different color than the rest of her hair. She glances down, back at the wet tracks into the library and scowls. "Damn." She looks back up to me and pleads with her eyes. "Don't tell Alfeegi?"

"Okay." I smile at her and she smiles back.

"Thanks." She walks away through the bookshelves until she's out of sight. I go back to my reading.

"CESIA!" I jump and catch the book before it hits the ground. A brown Kitchel walks in, glancing around. She brightens up and jumps on me. "Sloth!"

"Rath," I gasp, in some pain at the moment.

"Sorry. I meant Rath." She climbs off me, leaving mud behind. I'm glad I had the presence of mind to move the book out of reach. "Have you seen Cesia?"

My response, as you can imagine, is: "Who's Cesia?"

Kitchel's whole body stops moving. "Rath, how long have we been here?"

"About three, four days. Why?"

"How can you _not_ know Cesia?"

"Luck?" I hazard.

Kitchel shakes her head sadly. "You poor boy. I bet you don't even know about the group, since you don't ever come." She pats my arms consolingly, leaving more mud behind. "Anyways, she looks like this?" She pulls apart her eye-lids to give her eyes a bug-like quality. "And she should be wearing a sweater of some kind. . . ? Is this helping at all?"

"I dunno. What other physical traits should I know about?"

She leaves a few minutes later, muttering about boys.

I don't know what she expects, honestly. But I also leave to go change and take an early shower. I do _not_ want to be here when Alfeegi shows up and sees the mud.

Light joins me on the way. She rubs my leg and I pause to reach down to pick her up, rubbing her ears and making sure that she feels comfortable with her feet on the book, which makes things awkward. She nudges my neck and purrs deeply, snuggling as best she can. She abruptly wiggles out of my hands when we're a hallway away from my room, stalking off with great dignity to do something important.

She pauses a few feet away, sits down, and proceeds to stretch out a leg and lick it.

But cats are just like that. I don't care.

When I reach my room Nohiro is lying down, sulking on his temporary bed, staring at my computer that's currently turned off. He turns to look at me over his shoulder, and I feel compelled to say something to break the awkward tension and show that I care. Which I don't, but it's the thought that . . . that doesn't make sense. Never mind.

Nevertheless, I come up with the universal acceptable phrase of, "What's up?" Because, you know, it's completely original and nonconformist.

"I want to die," he says quietly, burying his face in his hands and turning onto his back.

I feel a certain kinship with him at this statement, and move a bit closer. I don't even mind when he pulls a pillow over his face while I say, "Why?"

"My true love hates me," he mumbles, trying to suffocate himself and not quite succeeding.

I make vague sounds of understanding and zip into the bathroom. Ten minutes later I come out with the same clothes on, but fresher smelling and without the mud. Nohiro is gone, and I take the time to read a bit more of Shakespeare before looking out the window (just because I feel like it, and no other reason) and noticing that it has stopped raining, although it's still cloudy.

But this means that Crewger is possibly alone outside. Haven't seen him in a while.

Taking some tunnels that are integrated into the walls and ceiling to avoid people I go to the kitchen and exit through a side door, because that's the one that's closest to Crewger's house. And there it is, a few yards away, with the door open and Crewger himself stretching like a cat. Fire and Earth are next to him, doing much the same thing before twining together and curling down to sleep in the almost-dry muck.

He's just about to join them when his whole face twitches and he looks up at me with wide, innocent eyes.

"Hey, boy," I grin. This one's real, I think, but I can't really tell. It's hard to remember what defines a smile being real after a while; the lines blur.

He bounces up to me and barks loudly. Fire and Earth jerk up, eyes wide and ears pricked forward. I laugh at them. Well, mostly Fire. They glare at me, and I can't say that I'm surprised. Fire gets up and prances over like a fairy while Earth lays down again to sleep.

Crewger tries to jump up on me, but I grab his front paws and force him to stand on his back legs. He gives me an affronted look, but I shake his paws and he looks down to see the muddy and wet things he was about to put on my newly-clean self. I drop him. He nudges my hand to say sorry. I rub his cold, damp ears.

Fire jumps onto Crewger's back, placing back paws on his head so that I have to pay attention to him. Crewger growls low in his throat, probably because Fire's claws are digging into his scalp, but Fire ignores him in favor of purring loudly and rather excessively when I reach under his chin. Crewger's tail twitches, but he's much to polite to send a cat flying when said cat might just accidentally scalp him.

Oh, that stuff that went into the air last year? It happened shortly after the cats were born. It only makes humans hallucinate, but they're still trying to figure out exactly what it does to animals. From what I've gathered so far from what they release in the newspaper, it makes the body create more of one kind chemical than another so that the body is unbalanced and doesn't react properly. To make a long, overly complicated description short, it makes mammals smarter, amphibians suicidal, reptiles secret philosophers, and birds stupider.

Except that, you know, there were a few more small things, but that's the gist of it. And not all amphibians are suicidal, just most. Some are even homicidal, so the occasional freak-frog-accident is not totally uncalled for. It's awesome to be able to say that the reason you're late to work is because a salamander was trying to kill you.

Not that I work, but I'm sure some people use it anyways.

I know, I know. I'm lazy. I just don't want to go through the hassle of actually trying to get hired. I have no job experience, and the one time I tried to work at a close McDonalds I sorta-maybe-kinda said something to the effect that the woman's father was a man-whore with twenty-three different STDs, that all she'd ever be was the manager of a McDonalds (even when robots took over the Earth and made humans obsolete), that her mother was a bastard, and, by the way, "No, I don't have good work ethics."

I'm surprised she didn't punch me. And now that I think of it, I can't remember how we got to that, but I think she said something negative about dogs. Or cats. Or a mixture of the two.

Fire jumps off of Crewger once the growling gets enough to annoy him. He twirls around on the ground as though looking for something, and then looks very put out when he obviously doesn't see it.

"What are you looking for?"

Fire glares, sits down, and twists his head to think. He stands up on his back legs then, balancing precariously and waving his arms out to his sides in a vague sort-of flapping motion. Then he sits down, looking pleased with himself.

"A bird?"

Fire nods. Cats aren't meant to nod, though, so it's more of a shoulder-roll/stretching-neck thing.

"What color?" When he glares at me I laugh. Again. It just seems like the thing to do. "Just kidding!"

I think about something else that's completely random for a full second. It's just one of those thoughts that people have once in a while, but have no relevance to anything happening at that moment. _I wonder if I'll die soon?_ But Crewger evidently isn't very patient today and pushes at my hand with a chew toy that also flosses for him. It's as muddy as everything else.

Nevertheless, I take it from him and throw with all my might.

* * *

AN: There's Cesia.

For those of you who don't want Nohiro to be gay: Don't worry. For those who do: I'm sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I am telling you right now, I tried to keep this story from going into any magical and/or supernatural spins. Well, I don't know if it will work. But it still might. It depends on where I go with things.

Also, this being an AU, I decided it's not on this world that we live in, although somewhere similar. I'm messing with stuff. Deal.

* * *

It's lunch, and I brought my food from home today. Peanut-butter and chocolate-chip sandwiches. I don't think I have to tell you that it's _very_ delicious.

"Hello!" comes a cheery voice from my left. I turn to look, and give Nohiro a smile.

I wave, although my greeting is a little less enthusiastic than his was. He doesn't seem to notice as he sits down and makes eyes at Rune across the cafeteria. Rune has his back to us. His body spasms, as though he can tell Nohiro is staring, but he doesn't turn around.

"Why doesn't she like me?" he murmurs, turning to stare at me.

I admit that I choke.

Nohiro thumps me on the back a few times, but I slap his hands away and swallow. "Are you alright?" he asks.

"What did you just say?"

He blinks at me. "I asked why she doesn't like me," he says slowly.

"Rune's a guy."

There's this pause as Nohiro stares at me in disbelief. Then he turns back to Rune, and his eyes widen. "Oh." He grins sheepishly. "I guess that's why she—er—he—has a male roommate?"

I consider telling him that that should have made it _obvious_, but decide it's not worth it. "Yeah."

"Mmm, I'd wondered about that. . . ." He looks at the wall for a bit. "I think I'd better go talk to him." He stands up.

"He'll kill you." I say that way to happily, and squash down the urge reach into my pocket for the pocket knife to give to Rune.

. . . What?

"No. I think I can convince him that he won't last in jail very long looking like _that_ before anything happens."

I don't think that will help his case, personally, but I remain silent and simply resume my eating. I'm on my third sandwich when a tray, with two pieces of pizza, slams on the edge of the table.

"Hello Kitchel." Frankly, I saw her coming for a while. I hope she wasn't trying to make me jump.

"Uh, hi Slo-Rath!" She sits down, folding her legs up to cross on the bench beneath her. Her friend, Cesia, sits down next to her warily while giving me a smile, looking at the peanut-butter on my fingers. "How's life going?"

"Okay." I take another bite.

"Really? That's great. . . ." She twitches a little. She looks over at Rune's table, and I glance over to see how Nohiro's doing.

He and Rune aren't there any longer. Neither are Gil or Thatz. Bierrez, however, feels my eyes and scowls accordingly. What's gotten into him? I don't know if I've ever said two words to the boy.

"Hey, do you know about the group we have?"

"What?" I miss some of the question.

"The group."

"What group?"

"The one we. . . . Alright." Kitchel sighs and shifts to bring her knee closer to her face. She curls an arm around it and lays down her chin. "It's this idea we had, after Cesia found, um, a person, crying. She decided we should have a place, like, say, a room, where we could meet and talk about stuff. One of those 'What happens in here, stays in here' sort-of things."

She looks at me expectantly. After a few seconds, I realize I should says something. "Okay."

She scrunches up her nose. "Okay? That's it?"

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, I guess. You just don't seem to care."

Well, isn't that a coincidence. "I don't." I make sure to say this in a voice that's vaguely regretful, though.

Cesia opens her mouth now, with her brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"I have no reason to."

Her eyes seem to glow for a second, and I feel very exposed. Something reacts inside me, although probably not how you're thinking. It's almost like I actually want to destroy her. Not just kill, utterly demolish.

I have that feeling a lot, but generally not for people I don't even know very well. Mostly Kaistern and Lykouleon, when they're being motherly, or Alfeegi, when he's in a blaming mood.

Cesia looks down at my peanut-butter and chocolate-chip sandwich and takes some. I let her. If I don't completely let her walk all over me at this moment, if I react at all, something really bad will happen. Like me screaming in baboon fashion and ripping her head off. I look at my sandwich and bite down. Slowly. My teeth grind together.

Kitchel cocks her head to the side and smiles a smile that is more like a grimace. "Well, I—we—were wondering if you'd like an official invitation!"

If I tried smiling right now I might break something. I attempt so anyways. Oh my gosh, was that a _tooth_? "No, thank you." No, wait. It was merely a slightly whiter piece of floor tile.

"You're not going?" Cesia looks me straight in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I have a previous engagement." See? I use big words.

"Which is?" She's standing up now. It doesn't have any affect, really, except to show that she has ridiculously big hair. I mean, I'd seen it before, but then it was merely wet and long. Now, it's dry, long, and _everywhere_.

"When and where is the meeting?"

"Why are you _changing_ the subject!"

"I'm not!"

"It's at seven, in the rec room," Kitchel says quickly.

"I'll be asleep then."

Cesia makes her thoughts known on the subject. "A teenager _voluntarily_ sleeping at _seven_?"

"Are you questioning my sleep habits?" The truth is, I can't fall asleep when another person is in the room. When I actually do fall asleep, however, it's very deep. (My alarm clock is very annoying because of that.) So, since Nohiro spends his time outside the room unless he's moping or it's after ten (the curfew set by Tetheus), I figure as long as I fall asleep before him it'll be alright.

Unfortunately I have trouble falling asleep in my bed. (The floor and various couches are okay, for some reason. I like to think I'm part cat, even if I'm not. Alfeegi doesn't really like that I sleep so often outside of my room during the summer.) Hence the three hours.

"Um, _yeah_?"

Maybe I shouldn't respond to that.

"Are you so stupid that you can't even speak without it being a question?"

Oops. Oh well.

"Are you so stupid that you can't think of anything wittier to say than that?"

"Are you really so childish as to play this game with me?"

"Who's _playing_?"

"I'm just saying that if this is you seriously 'fighting'", yeah, I'm just enough of a nerd to do the hand quotes, "me, do you really think I have anything to fear from you?"

She slaps me in the face, then grabs Kitchel by the arm and stalks off. Kitchel waves at me to grab my attention, and opens her mouth to say something, but the lunch doors close on her face.

I'm not an expert on girls or anything, but I think that means I win.

* * *

I've been wondering for a while why Bierrez's parents named him 'Bierrez'. Did they want it to be different, or something? Because it is. Nobody else is named that these days, but that's because M. L. Bierrez was a murderous general somewhere in the twelfth century.

I'm thinking they wanted him to take over the world. The other Bierrez nearly succeeded. Well, for the places in that day. America and Cuba not noticed yet by Spain, Vikings not sharing the info, etc. This whole piece of land was pretty much not there on the maps.

The only reason I'm on this particular tangent at this particular moment in time is because Bierrez is being particularly stupid by making eyes at some girl (now known as Cesia) in English.

Oh. And we're reading a book written by him. He sounds a little psycho, yet at the same time, romantic. Like, he believes in soul mates and all that crap.

It's second period on a Wednesday, and Cesia keeps glaring at me because of, I assume, yesterday. This leads to Bierrez sometimes _also_ glaring at me.

Rune's looking a little harassed with Nohiro whispering right beside him, but at least his eye isn't twitching yet, so the conversation that I didn't hear between them yesterday (didn't hear more than anyone else, anyways; the screaming was kinda hard to ignore) probably went better than I think, though Nohiro still has a black eye. Rune taps the book we're reading with his fingers as a hint, but Nohiro keeps up the continuous stream of words.

Fedelta ignores all this, reading on softly. It sounds fairly creepy, reading, "And if she did love me as I loved her, what more could one ask for in this life?" in that tone of voice. I seem to be the only one really following along except for Gil and some other girl with short, chin-length hair that I only have in this class. She sits on the other side of Rune, Gil sits in front of me.

Fedelta finishes reading. "What do you think Bierrez means by this . . ." he looks towards one of the people not paying attention, "Bierrez?"

"Huh?"

Fedelta smirks. Just a little bit. Like Rune's hand is itching to strangle Nohiro's skinny neck right now just a little bit. I'm sure that if the teacher wasn't in the room right now, it would've already happened, since the eye twitching is starting.

Bierrez looks to Cesia for help. She ignores him. "The . . . characters in questions are . . . not good at . . . being his friends?"

"That sentence didn't completely make sense, and it did not answer the question." Bierrez shrugs. Fedelta raises an eyebrow, and Bierrez wilts in his seat. Wow, I wish I had that kind of power. "Nohiro."

"Uwah?"

Fedelta doesn't smirk this time, but continues raising his eyebrows.

"Oh! Uh, Bierrez is saying that the girl already loves another, and he doesn't really have a chance besides being better looking?"

"Close. I'll accept it."

Nohiro breathes out harshly.

"In fact, we can see here that Bierrez has quite the ego." Bierrez glares, but Fedelta seems oblivious. "Despite this girl being a princess in love with a prince, and him a mere private at this time, although one with a few connections, he declares himself worthy of her and all she stands for. Does anyone find anything wrong with this?"

Silence.

"As you are just modern Americans I'll let it slide for today." Well, what are you, jackass? "Tomorrow, a three page paper on the next chapter of this book, and what it means. Finish the rest of this chapter on your own time."

The bell rings just as we start to shift and get comfortable for a long reading time. Everybody is surprised. Shouldn't we have more time than that?

But I check my watch, and sixty minutes have passed in the span of twenty.

It's weird.

I feel Cesia's eyes leave me, and I look to see her eyes are on Gil. He's staring straight ahead. His shoulders are tense, although his hands are rested lightly on his desk in the position of someone ready to play piano.

We all file out disorderly and wander to our respective classes or lunch.

I read all lunch, and nobody bothers me.

Perfect.

_Yet I feel so hollow. . . ._


	8. Chapter 8

I sit on my bed, scratching Fire's head and glaring at the computer screen in an attempt to use my nonexistent telekinetic abilities to do my homework. In the past two hours nothing has moved, and the screensaver came up quite a while ago, but it will so be worth it if I turn out to be correct.

All I need is some more silence to concentrate in. So far, ten minutes have passed since I gave Nohiro the option of either leaving or being castrated. I think he left to go continue the healing of his budding friendship with Rune, but who knows what he does in his spare time?

"Rath?"

"Dammit."

Her smile turns surprised. ". . . What?"

I switch tones immediately. "Hi Kitchel!"

"Hi!" She prances into the room like she owns it and sits down next to me on the bed. Too close. You know, I think personal space doesn't actually exist and was made up by someone with a sick sense of humor. She picks up Fire and sets him down on her own lap. He cracks an eye open, purrs in his semi-sleeping state, yawns.

I live with a pack of traitors. Honestly.

She stares at me. I stare back. ". . . Are you going to actually do anything? I mean, other than. . . ." She looks at my screensaver. ". . . Woah." Her eyes don't move for some minutes, but she finally, slowly, almost painfully yanks her sight back to my eyes. "That's disturbing."

My smile turns into something more real. "I know. Isn't it great?"

"Well, it's definitely cool enough. Kinda creepy." She twirls around on the bed, taking in the whole room. "Does _every_ room have a TV?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'm using yours." And with that warning, she reaches over, plucks the remote off the bedside table, and turns on the television. She skims through various channels until settling on something that looks like a soap opera.

"Hola!"

In Spanish.

I want to tell her to get the hell out, but something tells me that wouldn't be received very well. I settle for, "Can you really understand that?"

She blinks at me. Not towards me, but at me. It's kinda creepy. "Sort-of. I'm not so good when they start talking about the evil twin parts, but then someone shows up looking like another character, except that they do bad things, and then I understand. Or when someone dies and comes back. That's really confusing. I'm starting to get the hang of it, though!" She frowns. "But right now. . . . I can't tell whether his sister is in a coma from a car accident that happened three episodes ago, or if she's in a full body cast, or if she's fornicating with llamas."

". . . I'm pretty sure it's not the last one." I type a single sentence on the computer before placing my hands back on my lap. I have concluded, in a very scientific manner, that I do not have telekinesis. As of yet.

"You really can't tell," she shrugs. "The person who wrote this is on crack. Seriously! In one episode, this guy was kissing a girl when it started raining and she changed into a guy! I still don't understand that. Something about temperature, I think. Or maybe it was water."

"Oh."

Kitchel stays silent for a long time. Ten minutes later I'm still picking out certain words and phrases to put into my report.

Then there's a scream. "_NO_!_ PEDRO_!"

Can you blame me for falling off my bed? No? Then let's move on.

"The hell?"

Kitchel is sobbing into her hands as though the world is ending. I glance out the window. It still looks pretty peaceful.

"Um. . . . Is something wrong?" I've seen people pat others' backs before, but I don't really want to touch her. She might be diseased, or take it as an invitation that she should interrupt me more often. But she crawls onto my lap and looks up at me tearfully anyways.

The thought going through my mind: Get _off_ of me, you _freak_!

"Puh-Pedro was . . ." She sniffs. Pleasedon't wipe your nose on my shirt. "Pedro was murdered!" She closes her eyes and bows her head.

"Ah. . . . Um. . . . That's too bad."

Kitchel back up to look at me full in the face as though stunned. "Don't you-?" She blinks, and her eyes clear up in understanding. "Oh, right."

"What?"

"You aren't in the group with us."

"Does that have capitals?"

"What? 'The group?' No, not really. Maybe it should. 'The Group.' Hey, that sounds all authoritive!"

I swear this girl does not need to breath as often as us other _Homo sapiens_. Or, you know, whatever I am. I make some kind of noise in-between an order to leave and understanding deep in my throat, and that brings her attention back to me.

"You need to join our sessions, no matter what people say." What_ do _people say? She pats my arm with a sympathetic gaze. "You need to let it _all_ out!" She nods and tries to look knowledgeable. "Last time, Gil finally told us about why he's all . . . _emo_."

"He's not emo."

"He is."

"Not."

She stares at me with narrowed eyes. ". . . You're just upset that I read people's characters better than you."

"Does he cut himself?"

". . . Erm, not as such, no."

"Then he's not emo."

"PHHHHT—HEEHEEHEEHEE!!!" After her strange giggling fit (that gives me the shivers to just think about) subsides, she says, "You know, just because he doesn't cut himself I don't think that means he's not emo."

"I disagree. I'm sure I saw a definition of the word somewhere."

"Yeah, well, when you find that, then we'll talk." She smirks at me. "So, anyway, we've all sorta been working on Gil, since he seem to have excess emotional baggage, and he tells us that, well, he. . . ." She sighs. "He loved someone."

". . ." She doesn't say anything more, so I assume she's waiting for me to say something. "That's . . . nice?"

"Well, the guy's kinda dead."

"'The _guy_ is kinds _dead_?'"

"_Yes, the guy is kinda dead_. He was murdered. And . . . and so was Pedro. . . ." Her eyes tear up and she bows her head. It ruins the moment.

"I thought 'The Group' was supposed to be a 'What happens in here, stays in here sort-of thing.'"

"Shut up. I'm trying to recruit you."

"Good luck with that."

"Thank you. . . ." She looks up at me through her lashes, and it's not at all seductive. "I'm leaving."

"Okay."

"_Good-bye_."

"Bye."

She stares at me, looking like she's trying to pick apart my brain with _her_ nonexistent telepathic abilities. She gets up, crosses over to the door, and looks back. "I think you should come."

". . ." It is at this point that I realize she's not going to stop, and that she might have Cesia with her, again, the next time she bothers me. "_Fine_. When is it?"

"Tonight. Seven. We changed rooms since two days ago, though. Now we're in Lykouleon's study."

"He let you do this?"

"Well, yeah. Thought it was a very good idea, actually."

I _really_ don't want to go now. "Okay. I'll try."

"Alright." She's smiling and happy. I want to rip off her mouth for a second, it's so smug looking. "See you then." She skips out the door, and leaves me with a sleeping Fire, staring at my computer screen. It changes to the screensaver, and I shut it off without saving anything.

* * *

Disclaimer: The 'changing form when hit with water of a certain temperature' idea comes from Ranma ½ by Rumiko Takahashi. Not mine. Obviously. But it's a really good series. In my opinion, better than InuYasha. But that's just my opinion, so don't kill me.

AN: I don't care what _other_ people think—Gil and Laamgarnas belong together.

I'm not taking Spanish for my language credits. Therefore, I do not know the language. That's why I only used Hola. Sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

I walk along the hollow space between one wall and the next (about three feet across, since the walls aren't very thick; they just look it from the outside), taking my time and sneaking until I reach Lykouleon's unused study. (He uses the library more often than not, probably to keep an eye on me.)

I climb up a ladder to go over the doorway, peek through the small square of one-way glass to see where people are, and am glad to see no one in the immediate vicinity.

Cesia enters from the hallway.

Well, shit.

She turns around in a circle, looking at things very closely. "That potted plant seems to have been moved," she says over her shoulder and Gil comes into the picture, blinking as if he wonders why he's here.

"Okay." He, too, looks around the room before sitting in the corner of a small couch.

Cesia frowns and strolls over. I mean it. She actually _strolls_. "I thought you said you liked things to have consistency?"

"A potted plant on the other side of the room's not going to kill me."

"Have it your way." While I'm trying to get the Burger King commercial out of my head she sits on the desk across from him, twirling a lock of curly, frizzy hair around her index finger.

I walk quietly across the boards that make the top of the doorway and jump instead of going slowly down the ladder on the other side. I land on cat feet and stalk quietly to the next doorway, climbing up to the top of that one, too, and peeking through that one-way glass to make sure no one's coming. I wait a few seconds to be sure, then backtrack and slip around to the back of the room, where I exit through a small door that looks like a piece of wall and is conveniently behind a table with a tablecloth and potted plant on it.

I peek under the cloth to make absolutely sure nobody's here. I begin to climb out, and actually am up to my waist, when Kitchel and the girl with short, stringy hair from my English class walk by, talking. I freeze as the girl I don't know looks over and stops. She tugs on Kitchel's loose shirt. Kitchel stops and looks over, hands in her vest pockets. (It's a sorta weird style: tight vest and loose shirt.)

I'm not entirely surprised when Kitchel asks, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Stretching," I inform her a little snidely. I think I deserve to be able to let go once in a while when nobody important is around.

"No, I'm serious." I wonder what gave her the impression that I'm not. "Who're you trying to hide from?"

Well, Cesia, but considering that she and Kitchel are friends I do the smart thing and simply smile stupidly.

"Ah." She nods in understanding. Must be some weird, psychic, girl thing. Her eyes brighten. "Hey, you on your way to The Group?"

I nod.

"Come with us," she grins and waves her hand. "This is Delte. She's in some of your classes, right?"

"English," I inform her.

"And math and history," Delte adds. This is news to me.

"Wow." Kitchel blinks as we enter the room for The Group. During the brief moments I'd been away from the room Bierrez had shown up. He bristles when he sees me, and it's at this time that I start wishing he has cat ears and a cat tail, just so I could see his ears fold back to lie against the top of his head and his tail twitching and swishing angrily behind him.

I stop imagining this scene when I realize how perverted it can turn. I'm _not_ going to question my sexuality again. That was weird enough the first time.

"Hiya!" Kitchel says cheerfully, sitting on the arm of the couch and leaning right on top of Gil. He twitches in a mildly uncomfortable fashion, his eyes not leaving my face. Cesia gives me a vaguely regal nod, staring down her nose at me. Her eyes keep flickering over things, taking everything in.

As Thatz comes in I inform her, "You've got a bit of a twitch there."

Thatz backs out again. I watch this curiously before being subjected to the ominous feeling of death coming from a certain frizzy-head's direction.

I turn to her with a blink and a smile. "Yes?"

_I_ think I am being polite, but it seems we have a difference of opinion.

"You," she whispers with a tremble, "come in here, uninvited, and—"

"I was invited," I point out.

Cesia pauses. "No, you weren't."

"Yes, I was."

"No, you _weren't_."

"Yes, I _was_."

"No, you _**weren't**_."

"Yes, I _**was**_."

"No. You. _**Weren't**_!"

"Yes. I. _**Wa**_—!"

"_BY WHO?_" the banshee screeches. "_There's nobody in here who would invite you_!"

"Kitchel did," I reminded her.

"We revoked your right to come here right after that incident," Cesia informed me stiffly. She held her back straight with her hands clasped behind her back, and I suddenly wondered if she was from a military family.

"No. I mean, she invited me _today_."

There is a pause. Bierrez is munching on popcorn from who-_knows_-where and Delte sits perched daintily on the opposite side of the couch from sleepy Kitchel and watchful Gil, sipping some drink out of a teacup (probably _tea_) with a small smile. Cesia turns to Kitchel, and the once sleeping girl is suddenly wide awake and walking out of the room with a casual stance while saying, "You know, today is a good day for traveling. Delte said it, and she's always right. . . ."

This confuses me, until I take in the gauzy clothes that Delte is wearing. Besides her light coloring and non-black hair, she looks like a gypsy. She has many clip-on earrings on her ears, with bracelets adorning her arms and legs over fake-jewel encrusted sandals. A crystal clip-on on her nose catches my attention as she turns to watch Cesia give chase. From her choice of jewelry, it seems pain really hurts her.

"All of those are clip-ons," I tell her, not because I think she doesn't know, but because it confuses me. Why not simply get piercings? It would probably be easier. The pain would last for about two seconds.

She gives me a look that is at once kind and informs me that she already knows she's wearing clip-on jewelry. "The body is a temple," is her answer to the non-question. She shifts, and the many folds of her two non-matching skirts hide her feet and legs.

"Meaning: no holes besides those already there?"

Bierrez gives me a dirty look (he's blushing) while Delte says, "Exactly!"

Being ADD (I have a feeling that all people suffer from it, if even a little bit—I'm one of the less-extreme cases, obviously), I stop to think about people's expressions, because although I can't read expressions well I can't help but notice that Kitchel hadn't looked particularly scared as Cesia chased her out. . . . "Where do you think Kitchel and Cesia are?" I ask the room at random, although I only expect Delte to answer, as she seems fairly friendly.

I'm not disappointed.

"Probably a few rooms away," she smiles, like she's proud of me. Then she adds, "Talking."

"Oh." A pause. I tilt my head and smile back. "What are they talking about?" The only reason I ask that is because (and this is weird for me, I might add) I have a feeling she knows.

"You," a voice intrudes rudely into our public conversation. Bierrez crosses his arms over his chest to give me a hard look. "If you weren't here it would happen in this room, like it's supposed to, but—" and here his voice is quite frosty, "—you came."

"I was invited." And saying that phrase is getting repetitive.

Now, I could do the nice polite thing and leave to never come back, even as others continue to be rude to me by glaring and such, but I'm not a nice, polite person. So I'm staying, if just to bug Cesia, Bierrez, and anyone else who hasn't said anything about my presence but is still bothered by it.

. . . Nevertheless, this is a depressing thought. So I change my mind. I ignore whatever it is Bierrez is snarling (seriously, why all the hate?) and wave goodbye to the room in general. Delte and Gil wave back.

I turn, but can see Delte's smile fall from the corner of my eye.

Thatz enters the room before I can reach the door and obligingly moves to the side. I smile in thanks before actually escaping.

Behind me, there's silence. I think Delte says something when I'm a ways down the corridor, but I'm too far away to hear.

* * *

AN: No, Rath's not gay. But I'm of the opinion that everyone questions their sexuality at some time or another.

Also, I'm going to go over the past eight chapters and revise them, because there are inconsistencies, I know. And then hopefully get the plot moving faster! Although, well, these chapters aren't very long, and not that much time has actually passed in the story. . . . I'm just a slow updater. I'm sorry! Hopefully that will someday change. (And by someday, I mean within a year. Keep your fingers crossed.)


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